Floretta Coleman-Mercer is young, Colored, and gifted. The nineteen-year-old graduate of Madame C.J. Walker’s Lelia College of Beauty Culture is now in pursuit of a business degree from Oberlin College. Her long-held dreams of traveling the world are within reach until one telephone call shatters everything. Her mother, Iva Rae Coleman, is dead.
Devastated, Floretta returns to the small, all-Black town founded by her enslaved ancestors to lay her mother to rest only to have her dreams snatched away by family obligation. Her younger brothers need her. So does her thrice-widowed great Aunt Sis, now homeless courtesy of a fire caused by Floretta’s forgetful grandfather.
Choosing family over her immediate future, Floretta makes peace with her decision only to be caught in the vortex of her parents’ unorthodox relationship. Add to that head-spinning, the magnetic chemistry shared with horse rancher and Seminole Indian, Packer Sims. Join Floretta’s journey to claim and create a life that’s forever beautiful and fully hers.
Excerpt from Forever Beautiful by Suzette D. Harrison
“Floretta Eve, one day when the world is safe for young Colored women to travel loosey goosey and fancy free you can.” Granddad patted my arm in an involuntary fashion. “Until then remember this town was created as a refuge and haven.” He patted me again. “There’s no need for us to live as vagabonds. We have Colemanville. And you’re a descendant of Profit.”
As Daddy escorted them out I closed my eyes and counted to ten to keep from screaming.
Men will not control me!
Not Granddad. Not Daddy.
Everett Mercer might be The King of Colemanville, but he ain’t the king of me.
My referring to my father by a title others sometimes used occurred only when I was frustrated with him, which seemed to be increasing lately. His owning prime acreage and being the note holder on business loans for many in our community had earned him that moniker. But inwardly I knew he wasn’t a despot who paraded himself like a white god.
Still, I was vexed, and determined to find a way out of this mess. But right then I was beyond exhausted and wanted nothing but to crawl into bed and sleep away the nightmare of my mother’s death.
I stood intent on heading to my room after checking to make sure my brothers were still sleeping as peacefully as possible.
“Flo.”
My father’s voice stopped me midway.
I turned to face him, finding the earlier heat caused by my announcement had fled his expression, leaving him draped in wisps of sadness. I felt myself soften. “Yes, sir?”
He sank onto the plushness of Mama’s pale blue sofa, patting the cushion beside him. I wanted to decline but I was my daddy’s daughter and I needed the comfort of my sole surviving parent.
He wrapped his arms about me as I sat beside him snuggling my head against his shoulder. No matter my experience–positive, negative–despite the oddity of my parents’ union, my father’s embrace was one of my favorite, most secure places. I needed that right then.
“Your grandfather and I were hard on you earlier. And it likely seems unfair. But I vowed to Iva before you were born that you and your brothers would always be safe and provided for. I cannot have you going city to city, knocking on doors, in all manner of strange neighborhoods–”
“Daddy, it’s not like that. We’ll visit Negro neighborhoods. Only! And it’s not just canvassing. It’s conventions, and conferences, and sharing at salons and churches. It’s a prime opportunity for me to see and experience the world God created.”
“Daughter, that’s what I’m afraid of.” He shifted, removing my head from his shoulder so I could see his face. “You’re young. Lovely. And Colored. We both know the world out there isn’t Colemanville. There’re places you won’t be wanted or welcomed. What if you stumble into one?”
I sighed knowing my father was right, but thinking him overprotective as well.
“There’re people who would hurt you for looking at them the wrong way, going in the wrong entrance, or drinking from the wrong water fountain. There’re men who think because you’re Colored they can…”
He paused, swallowing hard, his jaw twitching angrily. He shook his head, stubbornly.
“I can’t have you anywhere I can’t protect you. We’ve lost your…mother…and that’s…” My father suddenly broke down sobbing as if his world had been viciously turned inside out. And it had been.
I held his hand and joined his grief, unable to help him when I couldn’t help myself.
Together, we wept.
“Daddy? Flo?”
I looked up to find my brothers, named for Biblical heroes who’d had faith in their ability to conquer stronger, more numerous enemies, standing at the parlor entrance. They looked scared and ran to us when Daddy gestured them forward. I opened my arms to my brothers, understanding my father’s misgivings but wishing he’d see my courage.
( Continued… )
Copyright 2024 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Suzette Harrison. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author’s written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only.
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